


Why do the Stars exist?

by kopierkatze



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble, Gen, One Shot, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:36:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5582422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopierkatze/pseuds/kopierkatze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuji has survived the explosion of the Lab on New Island, but where does he go from there, with no one else surviving and his experiments completely destroyed? This fic is a gloomy recollection of his thoughts and feelings about being the only one left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why do the Stars exist?

10 years. That is how long it has been. And yet I can still remember her smile as if it had been yesterday. Her gentle face, her beautiful wavey hair. And that clear laughter that used to fill our home, whenever she was playing games with my wife. How happy I have been then, during those times. I have almost forgotten what this feels like, or how to be able to sense anything other but the fear of forgetting what cannot be lost. I simply can’t let that horror happen! I MUSTN’T let it happen. I must fight, cling to those pictures of my family, of the soft eyes with which my poor little daughter looked at me while she called out to me “Father!”. This is enough for me to keep going. And this is also why I take on me the burden of living, while my baby girl is dead and my wife gone, having ran away from what she couldn’t understand. Only I can make Ai exist now… Only I can make her come back!

Of course not physically. Oh no. That option has long been destroyed by that creature, made by my own hands. In the fires of destruction it has burnt, wiped from this world’s face for good - and never shall I be able to give my daughter the future she would have deserved. Never will I see her excited expression, ready to take off for her first day of school. Never will I attend the party she would have given to celebrate her university’s degree. And never will I receive the sudden call in which she tells me I will be a grandfather soon. All of this is now out of my grasp.   
What bitterness burns within my heart, knowing I can never have any of this, that she will never have any of this. It is this passionate grief that noone wants to understand. They call me mad, desperate. They tell me to let go, to repent for what I have done. They tell me to feel glad that I survived, while my most precious child has been killed, twice; Her body crushed in that accursed accident. Her DNA eaten by the flames that hungrily consumed everything but the beast itself - the most powerful Pokémon on this earth.

Actually, it had been nothing but a byproduct of my - completely wasted - research. Mewtwo, we called it, the second of Mew. A clone, like my wonderous Ai. Or perhaps its more fitting to say, like what she would have been, had she ever been able to step outside of her artificial womb. Why did I make Mewtwo in the first place, you ask? If Sakaki (noone less than the big Boss of Team Rocket) hadn’t approached me with such a generous offer back then, I would have never taken on this task. But the project had been running low on funds already and so I had no choice but to accept his money. It would be wrong though to say that I had given Mewtwo life only to satisfy my own greed. Instead I was much more intrigued about the study of the great ancestor Mew’s life force, highly hoping to find a way of lengthening the life span of my own girl in the process. You see, no human copy had ever survived much longer than the age of 4, and even though I could recreate Ai over and over again (as I still was in Posession of her DNA), as long as she couldn’t leave that glass tube, she would never be able to be >my< Ai again.

This period of time was riddled with failures and set backs, and while the Pokémon grew stronger from day to day, my sweet angel dissolved once more into the orange fluids, that were there to transmit nutrients to her frail, unfinished body. I think, while this was one of the bleakest moments during my work in the lab on New Island, it also fueled my ambitions even further and I was sure that the next Ai would be my daughter, my “real” Ai. An Ai, that I could take into my arms and tell bed time stories to.   
And still I am most certain, that, hadn’t this monster ruined everything in its blind rage, the next copy would have been the final product. I am sure of it. No, I know it. IT HAD TO BE!!   
Yet, this possibility has been robbed from me. All I can do now, is to harbor these memories; to cherish the image of her round, little face as she looks up at mine, asking me why the stars exist; to relive the counted days I have been given to spend time with her.

I am cut from my thoughts as I suddenly bump into someone; their figure slender and tall, draped into a cloak. What an unusual way of dressing, I want to say quietly to myself, when I suddenly notice the stranger’s eyes. They are deep, piercing; purple orbs that stare me down, glancing right into my very core. I know them all too well. Was this also what my collegues saw, shortly before they died?, I question myself as I wonder if it was going to take my life too. Pupils narrow as the beast seems to notice who I am, and I am ready to accept the gift of death, but then it just darts off, away into the starry sky. Out of disgust or fear, I cannot tell. “Why do you spare me, Mewtwo?”, I shout after it, staggering from the alcohol I have consumed before. “Do you hate me, your creator, so much, that you deny me the right of meeting my little girl once again?” I fall down, now much too dizzy to stay standing on my feet.

Shakily, my hands raise up the bottle and move it towards my mouth. With tears falling from my eyes, I take another hit. “Maybe the stars exist to show us how tiny and lonely we are in this universe. Don’t they?”  
A gentle breeze blows.


End file.
